We rolled into Pacific Grove around 3:30PM. We didn’t have a place to live, and our worldly possessions were on a trailer somewhere between here and Texas. But we had each other and our dogs and it was good.
And it’s been good. An experience, as it was intended to be. After going home in December and then returning to this little house, it finally felt like we live here and aren’t on some weird vacation that includes jobs and our furniture.
And we’re in the place but still not of it. I knew this on Saturday as I stood in the checkout line at Safeway behind a nicely dressed old lady with a handful of coupons. The checker was either stoned or a monk because the last coupon wouldn’t scan and the line was backing up, but she wasn’t flustered or concerned. Or rushed. Over and over, the checker slowly punched something onto the tiny screen–perhaps she was writing in her blog–and over and over the coupon was denied. After finally consulting with another, less zen, checker, a solution was found.
And the old lady in the fancy clothes and expensive shoes asked, “Are you sure you got the one that was a dollar off Tide?” The checker wasn’t sure. She scrolled through the transaction. Back and forth. Slowly. I watched the line with the dollar off Tide move up and down the screen, unseen, as she and the old lady talked about how computers slow everything down these days. A year ago, I would have been tempted to point it out to them. Like an asshole. But this time I kept my mouth shut and tried to ride with the Tide. So, progress. And miles to go.
And still we rise.